A Little Girl’s Tears

A little girl was crying yesterday at work.  Silently, with her face buried in her hands, tears dripping down her face and onto the table below.  I tried to engage her in conversation and she wouldn’t talk. The pain in her eyes was deep, maybe too deep for words. I sat next to her, gave her some metallic markers and paper and explained that sometimes, for me, doodling helped when I was sad.  She reluctantly picked up a marker and began drawing and then equally reluctantly, she started talking.

She was crying because she didn’t want to be here.  Here meaning this school, this home, this day, and maybe even this life.  She wants to be at her old school and her old home with her brother and her mother but she can’t because she made a big mistake.  Someone was hurting her and she told someone who told someone and then she and her brother got put in foster care.  She feels terribly responsible for the break-up of her family.  She has been in three foster homes since she left her home.  All she wants is to be with her brother and her mother in their own home and go to the church and school she is familiar with.  I sat and listened to her for a very long time while she cried and talked and doodled.

I couldn’t really do much for her.  Listen, offer Kleenex and try to help her see that she did the right thing by telling. It’s not ok for someone to hurt you.  It’s not your fault you got put in foster care.  I told her I was sorry she was going through this and that I would pray for her and her family and I have and will continue to, but other than that, I am helpless.

I hate pain.  I HATE PAIN.  I hate how it looks on people’s faces.  I hate how it rips our heart into tiny pieces. I hate how it tends to isolate us from others.  I hate how we can take so much responsibility for pain that isn’t our fault.  I can’t help but think that God hates it too.  Why else offer comfort and restoration and a helping hand?   Why pay such a high price to be able to offer us a future and a hope of a life without pain? Why go to such great lengths to tell us of His desire for restoration and healing for our lives if it wasn’t so important to Him?

Jesus, I know You to be the Healer of broken hearts and broken lives.  I know You to be the God of all Comfort and that You are moved with compassion and heal people.  Would you be all that to this family that has been torn apart? Be the Healer in this little girl’s life and touch her at her deepest point of need, bottle up her tears, prepare a place in heaven for her and her family and prepare them for heaven, inscribe her name on the palm of Your hand and love on her as only You can do. I ask in Your name. Amen.

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7 Comments

  1. My heart breaks reading that story! I truly ache for kids in that situation. A student told me today that 3 foster sisters that have been living with her family are leaving now, and they might separate the sisters. Ugh. So sad. God never meant for it to be this way. Long for the day when wrongs are made right.

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    • It is heartbreaking. And there are so many stories out there like that and worse. We just had two sisters in our care separated from each other and put in different foster homes. Idon’t understand the reasoning behind that no matter how many times I have been told. Yes, that day is coming when all wrongs are made right!

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